


Something I Have Been Keeping From You

by heartmade_stuff



Category: Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Established Relationship, F/M, Fighting, I forgot what that's called haha, but only described in a conversation, like in a realtionship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7867255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartmade_stuff/pseuds/heartmade_stuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a minor incident that makes you freak you out slightly, you finally decide to tell your boyfriend Sebastian about why you've been acting so weird lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Minor Incident

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I started. The second chapter will follow as soon as I get it done.
> 
> I hope you like it. Please leave a comment or kudos, it would be appreciated loads.
> 
> Also, in the second chapter will be anxiety mentioned. I won't be too graphic, just mainly the effect it has on your feelings and actions in general. Please read it only if you're not easily triggered. I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable.

“No, nononono, no!”, you whine as you feel your phone slip out of your hands and watch it hit the concrete right in front of you. Sighing, you kneel next to it, setting down the heavy grocery bags you were just carrying. Since it has landed on its front, you are kind of scared to see what it looks like.

As you turn it around you are met with the sight of a completely shattered phone, a sight makes your eyes water.

“Dammit,” you say, willing yourself not to start to cry over this. Because it would be pointless and also very pathetic.

With a forced straight face you put your phone into one of the shopping bags, gather your things and walk to your house.

 

Hours later – after a few shed tears you couldn’t stop – you are sat on your couch, a cup of your favourite tea in one hand, the remote control to your TV in the other. The front door opens and your boyfriend walks in.

“Y/N?”, you hear him call out, but don’t answer. “Y/N?”, he yells again, this time louder and a little desperate.

“Living room,” you eventually give in.

Sebastian steps into the room and is instantly by your side. “What’s wrong, baby? Have you been crying?”

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you say. “My phone broke.”

Sebastian sits back and reacts like you expected him to: he doesn’t understand. “What? Your phone broke and that’s why you are so upset? I thought somebody had died or something.”

You set down your tea cup. “Yes, that is why I am so upset.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” he argues. “It’s not the end of the world, we can always buy you a new one.”

“Yes, I know,” you say a little annoyed now, standing up. “Look, I don’t to talk about it.”

Sebastian stands up with you, turning off the TV. “Why not?” he asks. “There is obviously more behind that.”

“No, there isn’t,” you reply, walking towards your kitchen. “Can we stop now? I was thinking about homemade pizza for dinner tonight. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, whatever,” he answers carelessly, trailing behind you. “But can we please not let this go? I just don’t want you to suffer in silence.”

“Suffer,” you scoff. “I am not _suffering_ , just a little upset about my phone. It’s gonna be fine in a few hours.”

Sebastian walks around the kitchen island to face you. “Really? When did it happen?”

A bit ashamed, you turn your face to the floor. “This morning when I went grocery shopping.”

“This morning? Jesus, Y/N!”, he exclaims, making you flinch. “Are you gonna cry over this for next century? It’s just a phone. Why do you always get so emotional about everything?”

You forcefully put the knife you just got out of one of the drawers on the counter. “Yes, Sebastian. I know that it was just a phone! But I can’t help that I get upset about things like this.” You leave the kitchen again and reach the hallway. “And just for the record?”, you say, facing him. “I really hate it as well.” You walk the rest of the way to the door.

“What is that supposed to mean?”, Sebastian yells after you. “Y/N?” He appears around the corner and spots you ready to leave.

“Where are you going?”, Sebastian asks. You just finish putting on your shoes without a word, willing yourself not to cry, because crying makes him feel bad and apologise even though he doesn’t really mean it. You want this conversation to be honest. And, yes, you are aware that simply leaving wouldn’t help at all in this situation, but you can’t take it anymore. You being this upset has been building itself up for weeks.

“Come on, this is getting really childish now, you now that.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. And those words hit home with you because you can’t help yourself. Trying to get out of this situation, you silently continue to put on your coat; the scarf that is actually Sebastian’s, but has been solely worn by you, you leave in its usual place.

“Where are you going?”, your boyfriend demands again.

“Outside.” And with that, you forcefully shut the door behind yourself.

 

It is the afternoon of the next day when the doorbell to your best friend’s apartment rings. You have been staying there since you left your house the day before.

“It’s him,” your friend informs you after looking through the peephole. “Should I scare him away?”

You chuckle a bit in response and stand up. “I can handle him,” you say as you reach the door.

Your friend does not seem very convinced. “You sure? I can perfectly remember you coming here running away from him.”

“I was not _running_. I just needed some distance,” you explain to her.

“Whatever you say.” She says, turning around. “Just scream if you need me.”

You wait for her to disappear behind the corner, before you take a deep breath and open the door, staring directly at Sebastian. And he looks miserable. But you don’t want to show any sign of pity.

“You’re still here,” you state the obvious with the coldest voice you can manage.

“Why would I have left?”, he asks with a small voice.

You shrug. “I dunno. It took me quite a while to open the door.”

Sebastian’s features indicate a little smile, but you are not ready to steer this conversation into an apology just yet.

“What you want?”, you ask.

Your boyfriend extends his arm towards you and you notice the beautiful bouquet of red roses. You accept them.

“There’s a card,” Sebastian informs you. You open it, revealing a message written inside.

 

_I’m sorry._

 

And that makes you angry. “’I’m sorry’?”, you ask. “Is that all you have to say? And you couldn’t even say it out loud?”

Sebastian seems to realise the mistake he just made and immediately tries to save the situation. “No!”, he says loudly, almost shrieks. “I mean, yes, I _am_ sorry, but no, that’s not all I wanted to say. I just wanted to add something to the flowers.” You want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“And yes, I had more planned than just that. I didn’t want to show up with empty hands, that’s all.”

You watch him relax again as you calm down at his words as well. “Okay, go on.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I overreacted. Kind of.” He visibly struggles for the right words. “I mean- you know I hate to see you sad. And it was a really long day yesterday – and I know that’s no excuse – I just, I was exhausted and I didn’t understand why you were so upset and I, I dunno.” He sighs in defeat and takes your hand that is not holding the bouquet in his. “I really am sorry.”

You hesitate with your answer to all of it – partly because you are still a little unsure of how to feel about the whole thing and also because you kind of want to let him wait and watch him sweat a little bit more. But enough is enough, you decide.

“Okay,” you eventually say.

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Okay?”, he asks.

“Yes. I accept your apology. And I’m sorry, too,” you give in, finally smiling. “I overreacted as well.”

Your boyfriend lets out a long breath and grins. “Does that mean I can take you home with me?”

You nod in response. “Can you hug me first? I missed you.”

“Of course.” Instantly, you are wrapped up in a tight embrace. “I missed you, too.”

 

In the car on the way back to your house, you are trying to gather the strength to finally tell Sebastian about what you’ve been hiding all these years.

“Do you want to pick up some food on the way?”, Sebastian asks.

“There is something I have been keeping from you,” you say instead of answering his question.


	2. The Sort of Aftermath

“Here,” Sebastian says gently, handing you a cup of your favorite tea. It is obvious that he still feels awful about the argument and it makes you feel even worse.

He sits down across from you, sipping on his own coffee. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

You bring the mug to your lips, using the suspense to gather enough courage to speak.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Sebastian hates having to tell you this over and over. You’ve been together for almost a year, so why haven’t you still opened up to him about what is bothering you? It couldn’t be that awful, could it?

You, on the other hand, really want to tell him. You do. It’s just, you can’t for some reason, so the only thing that comes out of your mouth is, “I’m sorry.” Because you, honest to god, don’t know what to say. How can you explain what you feel when you don’t even know yourself? How on earth are you supposed to express it all when the uncomfortable lump in your throat is keeping you from doing so?

“And you’re sorry for what exactly?” Sebastian can’t hide his confusion, or rather annoyance anymore. He wants to keep it together, for your sake, but he can’t shake the feeling that this night is going to end very differently from what he hopes. “That you left me worried sick last night when you didn’t answer any of my calls? Or are you sorry for what you have obviously been hiding from me for the whole of our relationship? What is it? Are you cheating?”

You shake your head and flinch at his words because you know it is true. Well, you aren’t cheating – you would never - but what he said isn’t completely out of the blue and you know that he doesn’t know the whole story, only the information you gave him. His reaction isn’t unfair towards you. No, it is the other way around. If you had been open from the beginning, this wouldn’t be happening.

You decide that keeping everything to yourself isn’t worth it anymore. Not if it means that you are losing Sebastian.

At the thought of that mixed with all your emotions from the past days, you promptly burst into tears. And you hate it because this always happens in a fight. And it’s not fair towards Sebastian,  _again_ , because you feel like you’re taking advantage of his gentle nature when he gives. Just like he does now.

Sebastian looks like a kicked puppy at the sight of your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry,” he begs, voice barely above a whisper. He scoots over closer to you and raises his arms to hug you.

You, in return, hold up your hand to stop him. “No,” you say and you hate how it hurts him even more. It seems like all you do is hurt him these days. “Please. Can we just talk right now? I just- I need to do this.”

The look on his face only falters slightly but he nods nonetheless.

Moments later, after taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, you finally manage to blurt out, “I have anxiety.”

Sebastian looks at you a little weirdly, not knowing how to respond. This is definitely not what he expected, so he mentions for you to go on.

“That’s why I freak out over stupid things all the time,” you add.

When your boyfriend still doesn’t talk you feel yourself growing more anxious. “Do you know what I mean?”, you ask because maybe he isn’t grossed out by you, but just doesn’t know what it means.

Sebastian sets his mug on one of the coasters on the coffee table. “I don’t, sorry,” he says, half-smiling apologetically. He scoots over again to where you’re sitting on the sofa, taking your free hand in his. “Do you want to explain it to me?”, he asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

You nod whilst taking another sip of the tea and have to realize that it has gone a bit cold by now. Sebastian notices the look of irritation on your face and gently takes the cup out of your grasp.

The moment you see your boyfriend’s patient expression and decide that it would be pointless to hide it any longer. You realize that he would never judge you for who you are and what you’ve been through.

“It’s a mental illness,” you start, “Anxiety is different for everyone. For me, personally, it’s like, when- Imagine that, uh, – you know when you get nervous before interviews or cons?”

Sebastian nods in response.

“Okay, take that – and maybe amplify it a bit – and imagine that all the time. Like 24/7.”

He nods again, beginning to understand. “That’s what you deal with every day?”, he wonders, starting to feel guilty for not noticing anything sooner.

“Yeah, sort of. Sometimes it’s okay, but there are a few bad days when I’m really bitchy – you probably know those – or I cry all the time but usually I try to keep my distance from you then.”

Sebastian can’t believe his ears. “You absolutely do not have to keep any distance from me.  _Especially_  if you’re feeling down or anxious or whatever! I’m always there for you.”

“Well, I guess I just didn’t want to be a bother?” You meant for it to be a sentence but it sounds more like a question if you’re honest. You feel the need to explain yourself further. “It’s also why it’s so difficult for me to, like, show or accept affection. I’ve only  _just_  gotten used to someone really wanting to touch me, I guess? And you are a really affectionate person – which is totally a good thing!”, you quickly add to prevent more confusion, “I really like that, but it’s just new to me and I’m trying my very best to return it.”

Sebastian squeezes your hand, finally getting how difficult it must be for you to be so honest.

“And, kind of, because of that anxiety thing my body and mind are on edge most of the time. So, when something silly – like my phone breaking – happens, I overreact, which is what happened today. Normally you’re not around to witness it,” you conclude, letting yourself become consumed by the comfort of not having to hide anymore.

Sebastian notices that you’re finished and take this as his cue to wrap his arms around you to bring you close to his chest. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice before,” he mumbles, stroking your hair.

You lift your head to look up into his eyes. “No,” you will your voice to sound sincere, “it’s not your fault.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to protest, but you interrupt him, “I didn’t show anything, so you couldn’t have.”

“No, I should have realized.” His right hand takes hold of your cheek and his voice cracks a bit at the end but sounding sincere nonetheless. “It’s my job to know when you’re not happy.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “I  _am_  happy! I really am,” you say as your hands find their way to Sebastian’s hand on your face. “I need you to know how happy you make me.” A lump has formed in your throat again, making it difficult to speak. You want to make your point anyway. “It’s just- I really don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell me about your anxiety, isn’t it?” He doesn’t sound mad anymore, only understanding.

You nod, relieved. “It’s an anxiety thing. Not a you thing.”

And as he smiles down at you, you realize you lucky you are to have him by your side. To be honest, you don’t really know what exactly you were afraid of.


End file.
